


Oh, the Weather Outside is Frightful (But Your Curves are so Delightful)

by hayj



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, F/M, asst others - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:46:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28090368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hayj/pseuds/hayj
Summary: After her family leaves for the country without her, Charlie finds herself under the care of a very persnickety Sebastian
Relationships: Charlie Matheson/Bass Monroe
Comments: 7
Kudos: 43





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I think I forgot to mention that you should probably just handwave away the exact age difference in this story.

Charlie descended from the hired hack in desperate need of both a bath and a bed. With great effort, she had remained reasonably lucid on her way home, her pistol tucked in her reticule until at last, the Matheson townhouse was before her. 

Early December air swept down the lane, chafing her cheeks and buffeting her dress as she made her way to the entrance. For the last two months, she had been escaping the notice of her aunt and uncle, coming and going as she pleased by slipping in and out while the servants and her family were otherwise occupied.

This time, however, unease gripped her as she hastily fitted the key she had stolen from the housekeeper into the lock. She had never been gone all night before. She could only hope that her uncle had not noticed her absence at breakfast. Since he had married his wife, Lady Nora, Miles had been blissfully distracted.

The lock clicked, and holding her breath, she slipped inside. Nary a butler, maid, or footman was anywhere to be seen and the house was strangely silent. 

Frowning, she made her way slowly through the entrance hall, determined to seek the staircase, and race up it with all haste. But, just as she passed the library, the door opened.

Drat. 

She froze, waiting for the disapproving drawl of her uncle’s voice. Her mind rushing to provide a suitable explanation for sneaking into her own home at nearly half-past one in the afternoon, her gown covered in blood.

“I beg your pardon, Madam,” called out a voice she recognized all too well. “Just where exactly do you think you are going?”

Her heart began to beat faster, but she forced herself to maintain a calm expression as she slowly turned to face him. 

Sebastian Monroe stood at the threshold of the library looking like an angry god. Wide shoulders filled the doorway and buff breeches encased his long legs and muscular thighs. His waistcoat was as black as his coat, his white cravat simply tied. His tousled blond curls framed his face, as his startling blue eyes burned into her own.

“Lady Charlotte?” he asked, the reproach in his voice causing Charlie to ache at her very center.

Oh, how she hated that he insisted upon referring to her as if they were strangers. He had known her since she was a babe in arms. 

“Bass,” she greeted In return, knowing how much her use of his nick-name would bother him.

“How have you come to be here?” He demanded. “I was given to understand that you left early this morning with not only my family but your own. And why the devil is your gown covered with blood?”

He was moving closer to her, crossing the distance with his long strides and she was so entranced by the sight of him, tired as she was, his words failed to make sense until he stood in front of her. 

Double drat! 

How had she forgotten that this was the day her family was leaving for Roseland Hall in Somerset. 

Miles and Nora along with Bass’ parents were hosting Christmas parties to find husbands for Bass’ sister’s, Mia, and herself.  It was sure to be a wretched affair, but Miles had insisted they must all remain together at Christmas and that it was high time the girls found suitable husbands.

“I fear I forgot,” she replied, wondering if it was her lack of sleep or her imagination that made it appear as though Bass’ gaze was on her lips.

“You forgot,” he repeated, his jaw hardening.

“Yes,” she smiled up at him, wishing he was not so devilishly handsome.

“And the blood, Lady Charlotte? Why are you covered in it?”

Charlie lifted her chin another notch. “I owe you no explanations, Bass.”

“In the absence of your uncle, I am responsible for you,” he ground out as if the very notion appalled him “so I will ask you again, Lady Charlotte, where have you been and why is your gown coated in blood?”

For one hot minute, she considered confessing the truth but knew he would instantly run to Miles, and then her evening sojourns would loudly and dramatically be put to an end and she simply couldn’t bear for that to happen.

“I heard a female cat in the stables,” she lied. “I aided her and her kittens.”

“A ridiculous lie that does nothing to explain the blood.”

“The mama cat had her babies upon my gown.” Looking down at her herself, she realized just exactly why the hack driver had looked at her suspiciously.

“Cease with the lies, Lady Charlotte.”

Charlie frowned as irritation quickly took over, no doubt aided by her lack of sleep and the realization that her entire family had left for Somerset, and not one of them had noticed she was missing.

“Why don’t you cease making demands of me?” she snapped. “I am not your responsibility.”

“I will make demands of you if I wish,” Bass practically growled. “An innocent young lady cannot go traipsing about London, covered in blood.”

Charlotte Matheson was tired, angry, and did not like the way Sebastian Monroe made her feel. Pushed to the edge, she eyed him defiantly with an elegantly arched brow. “That was your first mistake.”

She watched as his nose flared in anger. “Just what are you suggesting, Lady Charlotte.”

“I am suggesting that you go back to your drinking and whoring or whatever it is you were concerning yourself within my uncle’s library,” she replied with more bravado than she felt. “Good day, sir.”

Feeling rather pleased with herself, she turned on her heel and swept towards the stairs. Unfortunately, her stomach clenched against a wave of nausea, causing her to stumble under the force of the dizziness that followed it. Vision blurring, the familiar curve of the staircase swirled before her and she felt herself pitching into the abyss.

Bass rushed forwards, catching Charlie just before she toppled to the floor. She might be small and petite but wrapped in her Spencer and gown she was bloody difficult to handle. Somehow, he managed to leverage her dead weight against his chest, holding her there while he verified she was still breathing.

He had no reason to believe that the blood dirtying her skirts was her own, but one could never be too sure.

“Charlotte,” he said, looking down at her while he attempted to remain calm.

She made a sound and her parted lips released a breath, washing over his own.

She had merely fainted he realized, saying a silent prayer. He could imagine Miles’ reaction if his niece perished under his womanizing best friends’ watch, nevermind the fact that she should be tucked up in the coach beside him, on her way to Somerset with the rest of the family.

With the staff dismissed for the day, Bass was the only one about to attend to her, which meant that he alone would be seeing to her needs this evening. 

“Bloody Blazes,” he mumbled to himself as he swept her up and ascended the stairs. 

Her breasts were crushed against his chest in a most indecent manner, breasts that he had spent the last two years doing his best to ignore. Breasts he was not meant to gaze upon, let alone feel pressed against his body. 

And he especially shouldn’t have taken notice of her luscious lips while she goaded him. Her defiance had made his cock twitch to life just as it had done every other time he was in her presence.

With a sigh, he continued his way down the hall to her bed-chamber, opening the door with one hand, before depositing her upon the bed with as much care as he would give fine porcelain china. After all, she was more precious than porcelain, even if she was a thoroughly spoiled, utterly vexing hoyden. Miles had doted upon her from the moment she was born, giving her everything she had wished for and he had stood nearby watching it all, longing for her since she’d grown into a woman.

Looking down at her, he wondered what he was to do with her now. Fetch a physician? He was alone in the house with her and summoning a doctor would bring the worst sort of scrutiny upon them both.

There was no hope for it. He would have to tend to her herself. Biting back yet another curse, he unhooked the buttons marching down the front of her jacket in case it were impeding her breathing. Before he had removed his hands she moaned and stirred causing him to jerk upright.

“Lady Charlotte.”

Spencer falling apart where he had unbuttoned it, he realized her bosom was larger than he recalled. Full and round with just a hint of soft pale skin emerging from her neckline. 

Bass swallowed against a sudden thickness in his throat.

“Bass,” Charlie murmured, watching him through lowered lashes.

Her eyes were the color of the summer sky in the countryside. Her hair the color of wild honey right out of the hive, and she still had the smattering of freckles over her nose that had endeared her to him as a child. Now that she was a woman, they did other things to him. Things he would not allow himself to think about. 

Ever.

“Lady Charlotte, how do you feel?” he asked, keeping his tone neutral.

“I feel odd,” she replied after a moment, her tongue darting out to moisten her lips. “What happened?”

“You swooned,” he announced dryly, his irritation with her sudden appearance returning. He couldn’t help but wonder how long she had been gone, where she had been and with whom, and then the bold suggestion from her very own lips that she was no longer an innocent. 

His hand clenched near his side as a possessive surge, more than a concerned uncle would feel, hit him anew.

Taking a breath, he banished it as ruthlessly as the stirrings of desire she inspired in him. He rose to his full height, scowling down at her. She was not the sort of problem he needed right now, he reminded himself. 

His latest mistress was demanding things from him that he wasn’t willing to give, hence his hiding out at Miles’.

“Are you sure you did not bludgeon me?” she asked, wincing as she attempted to sit up before deciding against it.

“If I had beat you there would be no question of it,” he replied. “Do I need to summon a doctor? Please be honest. We are currently the only two in this house and I should like to spare you undue scandal and scrutiny, but I also need to know you are well.”

“The only two?” Charlie asked in confusion. “Where has everyone gone?”

“Miles was kind enough to allow the servants several days with their families as yours would be away,” he explained, rolling his eyes just as he had when Miles had mentioned it in passing.

“We’re alone,” she repeated, staring at him, her lips parted.

“I’ll ask again. Do I need to send for a physician? Arriving as you did, looking like a freshly murdered corpse, I cannot be sure.” 

Flicking a glance back over her skirts, he refrained from rolling his eyes once again. Kittens in the stables. She wore enough blood for a dozen cats, the brazen liar.

“No,” she responded faintly. “I am perfectly well. Simply hungry, tired, and dirty.”

“Just where have you been to be in such a condition,” he asked, his shoulders stiff with the sudden responsibility of her care.

“I do not owe you an explanation,” she told him stubbornly.

“Perhaps not, but if you want my assistance, I must insist upon having answers.”

“I do not require your aid. I can do for myself.”

“Indeed?” he replied, crossing his arms across his chest. “Who shall draw your bath and prepare you sustenance? Who will see that you are escorted safely to Somerset and the rest of our family?”

“I will,” she vowed defiantly, her blue eyes flashing.

“You’re wrong, Lady Charlotte,” he replied, damning them both with his words. “I will.”

* * *

It didn’t take long for Charlie to concede that the insufferable man was right.

She did need his assistance.

Unfortunately, she had only reached this rather grim and reluctant realization as she attempted to carry a bucket of heated water from the kitchen. She had filled it too full and in her exhaustion, her arm gave out, sending water all over her skirts and the kitchen floor.

“Damn it all to hell!” She yelled, railing at both her own failings and the situation she found herself in.

She was hungry, dirty, and tired without the familiar comforts of servants and family. The only person she had was Sebastian Monroe and from the look on his face earlier, it was clear that he would not lift a finger to help her unless she confessed.

What he didn’t realize was that she was every bit as determined as he was.

“I strongly suggest you concede, Lady Charlotte.”

His voice, so unexpected in the kitchens, startled her so badly, she whirled around to face him, only to find herself in a heap on the floor, her backside wet and aching.

“Lady Charlotte?”

His face hovered over her and even upside down he was the most handsome man she had ever seen. Humiliation battled with irritation. 

“Were you spying on me?” she demanded.

“I was observing, Lady Charlotte. Fortunately for you, one of us recognizes the inherent flaws in your plan. Have you managed to injure yourself with your foolish insistence upon heating and carrying your own bathwater?”

“I am perfectly well,” she lied, sitting up.

“Hmm,” Bass hummed, looking down at her as he bit back a smirk. “You don’t look at all well to me, my lady. Would you like a hand?”

“What I would like, is for you to go away,” Charlie replied mulishly.

Instead of leaving, he extended his hand. 

Charlie noted how large it was, and the length of his fingers without his gloves on, outstretched in temptation.

“Tell me where you were, and what you were about, Lady Charlotte, and I will be more than happy to haul all the heated water you desire,” he tempted softly.

Charlie’s chin jutted out. “Go to the devil, Bass.”

Bass pursed his lips. “That is hardly the sort of thing a lady ought to say to a gentleman wishing to come to her aid.”

“Except I am no lady and if the rumors are true, you are most certainly not a gentleman,” she replied, pushing to her feet without his assistance, thank you very much, unable to miss his wolfish grin.

“Jealous?” he asked, before mentally slapping himself for letting her drag him into her web.

Ignoring him, she bent to retrieve her fallen bucket, determined to carry on in spite of him. “I do not understand how forcing me to impart information to you in exchange for your assistance is acting the part of a gentleman.”

“An equal exchange is not force,” he replied slowly, his voice pitched low. “You are reliant upon me, but simply too stubborn to admit it. Would you like your bath hot or would you prefer to continue to struggle?

At that moment her stomach gave up the fight, growling loudly. She clamped a hand over it in embarrassment, her eyes flying to his in horror. 

Bass tilted his head. “When was the last time you ate?”

“Yesterday,” she admitted. 

“Jesus,” Bass muttered. “Little wonder you swooned. Trouble must indeed be your middle name.”

“If I am so much trouble then you ought to be pleased to leave me alone as I’ve asked,” she ground out.

“Come with me,” he ordered, taking her arm in a firm but gentle grasp, dragging her to the downstairs kitchens. 

“How dare you manhandle me, Sebastian Monroe!”

He stopped in front of a battered table. “You are wearing a gown covered in blood,” he bellowed back. “I will do whatever I wish to you as long as it means keeping Miles Matheson’s wayward minx of a niece safe! Now sit before I make you sit, Madam!”

Deciding that a retreat might be in her best interest, Charlie sat. “I told you the source of the blood.”

He turned away from her, stalking about the kitchen. “Yes, yes, the cat nonsense.”

“It is not nonsense,” she grumbled, even though they both knew it was.

He returned to the table with a slice of bread and a slab of cold chicken on a plate. “If not nonsense, then a blatant falsehood, and not a particularly imaginative one.”

Charlie ignored the comment, instead taking the plate that he held. “Thank you.”

“You can thank me by telling me the truth,” he prodded, placing a cup of wine in front of her as well.

She continued to ignore him as she consumed everything on her plate, finishing it off with the wine.

“More?” he asked from where he hovered

“Thank you, but no,” she replied, suddenly embarrassed by her lack of table manners.

“Where were you?”

Charlie gave a beleaguered sigh as she stood. Lords, he was worse than Danny. “I already told you.”

“You told me a lie. I want the truth.”

“Will you help me with my bath water or not?” she asked tiredly.

* * *

He had to admit, she was brazen, daring, infuriating, and beautiful.

She was also the niece of his best friend, and regardless of how much he and Miles had shared over the years, or how much they proclaimed to be family, Miles would kill him if he ever laid a hand on her. 

“I’ve already told you the price for my help.” 

“And as I have told you numerous times already, I do not owe you an explanation, nor will I give you one.”

Her stubborn insistence made him even more determined to uncover what she was hiding.

It was also making his cock throb. 

“Then no bath for you.”

She shivered then and he thought of how unseasonably cold it was and how she had been tramping about the city for who knew how long, doing Lord knew what and how cold she must be.

“If you insist on being a cad, I won’t stop you,” she replied with a sniff and tilt of her head before shivering again, the shudder running the length of her body.

Bass ground his teeth together. If she became ill, Miles would never forgive him. Nor would he forgive himself. “Your skirts are damp,” he finally said, “and it is devilishly cold outside. Have you no care for your own welfare?”

Charlie scoffed. “I shall be fine.”

“I’ll fill the dratted tub,” he conceded, irritated with himself for giving in as much as he was for the thought of Charlotte Matheson sliding into a steaming tub nude. 

Taking a deep breath, he turned his mind to the far safer matter of heating water and hauling buckets up three sets of stairs.


	2. Chapter 2

Charlie stood before the beckoning warmth of her filled tub. 

Bass had hauled the heated water himself as she had watched from a nearby chair.

He had removed his coat, and scandalously, rolled back his shirtsleeves, revealing the length of his forearms. It was part of a gentleman’s body she had never before seen bare and one she had never imagined she might find mesmerizing, and yet somehow she did. 

But then, on Sebastian Monroe, every part of the male form was enthralling. Watching him move with graceful strength, made a strange feeling settle between her legs.

By her estimate, he had one bucket of water yet to retrieve which was just as well. For as much as she could scarcely wait to sink beneath the warm soothing water, it also occurred to her that her gown fastened up her back. Without the assistance of her lady’s maid, Charlie had a problem.

The sound of footsteps in the hall alerted her to Bass’ presence before she saw him. 

In grim silence, Bass strode across her chamber, looking out of place amongst the pastel and gilt of her room, close enough to touch if she dared. 

She did not.

Pouring the last bucket of water into the tub, he continued to look everywhere but at her. “Your bath, my lady. Warm yourself and get some rest. On the morrow, we will set out to find the rest of your family. You can explain to your uncle what you were about and officially become his problem once more.”

Charlie frowned, unable to keep her mouth shut just this once. “I am no one’s problem, most certainly not yours.”

At long last, he finally met her gaze, his bright blue eyes clashing with her own, stealing her breath.

“You will stay out of any further trouble this evening, will you not?” he questioned even though it came out more as a demand.

Charlie decided she would make him any promise he wished in light of her needing his help.

“I will,” she promised, lowering her head slightly. 

Once he had spun on his heel and headed towards the door, she called out after him. “Bass, wait. Please.”

He closed his eyes quickly before turning back to face her. “Lady Matheson, the longer I linger here in your chamber the worse it will be for the both of us.”

“I need your help to disrobe,” she blurted out.

Charlie watched as his eyes raked over her figure, before once again meeting her eyes. “I beg your pardon, Madam. I do believe I misheard you.”

Her hand flew to her bosom as a rush of longing nearly took her breath away. “My dress. It fastens in the back. Will you help? Please?”

Charlie watched as a muscle ticked in his jaw.

“Turn around,” he growled, stalking towards her.

She froze at his approach, unable to even speak as he stood nearly toe to toe with her.

He impatiently clamped his hands around her waist forcing a whimper from between her lips. Tightening his grip, he spun her around. “I do not have time to tarry with you all afternoon. I have an unexpected journey to plan thanks to your willful disobedience.” 

Not to mention apologies to send that he wouldn’t be able to make certain appointments he had already scheduled.

Charlie bit her lip to bite back a cutting retort. The sooner he opened the back of her gown and left the chamber, the better, she reminded herself. After all, she needed a bath, and then she needed sleep. She did not need to be mooning over Sebastian Monroe who seemed oblivious to her existence beyond the companionship she offered his sisters and the irritation she caused him.

His fingers grazed the nape of her neck as he began his task. She nearly jumped at the contact but managed to restrain herself. The closures were plucked from their moorings one by one, and she couldn’t help but wonder just how many times he had done this before for other women. 

Finally, as the last closure was released, he stilled his fingers, lingering against her spine, her chemise the only thing separating them, causing a burst of heat to flood her core. Having discussed the nature of men with her uncle’s wife, Charlie knew what this feeling meant. Knew that it was highly improper. Forbidden even. But deliciously scintillating.

“I-I believe you can manage the rest on your own, Charlotte,” he rasped out, a huskiness to his voice that wasn’t there before. “Have your bath and rest. In the morning, we travel.”

Before she could make her protestations, he was gone, the door slamming closed with more force than necessary, causing her to jump.

Slowly, she shrugged her gown from her shoulders, before removing her chemise and stockings to slide into the warmth of her bath.

* * *

An hour. 

That was the length of time it took Sebastian to organize the details of an impromptu trip to Somerset. It was also the length of time it took for his raging hard-on to abate following the shameful lack of self-control he had exhibited in Charlotte Matheson’s bedchamber.

His mouth had been so close to the elegant swath of her creamy neck that he had almost tasted her, wanting nothing more than to press his lips to the bony protrusion of her spine. It took everything in him not to peel her bodice down to her waist, taking her chemise along with it.

Even now, he still couldn’t shake the lust she inspired in him completely. Organizing the details of their trip had helped him to remember that this was his best friends’ niece and that said friend would most definitely have a problem with him thinking about her in such a way.

No, it was up to him to see to her safety the same way he would either of his sisters, which is how he had ended up outside her bedchamber once again doing his best to avoid any thoughts of her in her bath as he knocked at the door.

Silence.

“Charlotte?” he called out, knocking more forcibly this time.

Still, no answer.

Devil take it! Had the blasted woman disappeared yet again? He refused to let the minx wander off to wherever she went to bloody her gowns. Just the thought of her being anywhere overnight alone, in London, and returning looking as if she had been wandering a battlefield, made him all the more determined to ensure she was safely within her chamber where she belonged.

He knocked harder. “Charlotte Matheson! Open this door right now!”

Closing his eyes on an exhale, Bass groaned. He knew what he had to do but still hesitated even though he had already been within her chamber a half dozen times carting water for her tub. 

God he hoped she was clothed.

Bass opened the door slowly. “Charlotte?” he called out, giving her a chance to announce herself before he just barged in.

When she still didn’t answer, he strode towards the tub, which sat in front of the fireplace and that is where he found her, head tipped back and arms slung over the edge. 

“By God,” he breathed. 

The blood really had been her’s he thought rushing the rest of the way to her side. His fear eased when he realized that the water was clear and she was simply relaxed with sleep. Her pink lips were parted as she softly breathed, her lashes fanned across her cheeks.

Beautiful did not begin to describe her he thought as he stood over her. One would think he was a boy right out of the schoolroom at his reaction to the expansive amount of creamy skin that was on display. Though the light in the room was dim, he could make out the shapes of her breasts beneath the water, and the mouthwatering pink of her nipples. Taking a deep breath, he forced aside all such thoughts as this was neither the time nor the woman in which to indulge. 

She could have drowned, falling asleep in the tub the way she had, he reminded himself. If she had slipped beneath the surface it could have been the end of her. Thank god she had rested her arms over the lip of the tub.

He shook himself from the stupor that had overcome him and took another step closer. “Charlotte!” he snapped.

She jolted awake, sliding down in the tub as she jumped, leaving him with no choice but to grasp her to keep her from going under. 

“Bass?” she questioned sleepily, her voice low and seductive.

His cock stirred in his breeches because he was a bloody bastard and not at all trustworthy around his best friend’s niece. What he needed was to find the nearest woman and bed her if only to banish Charlotte Matheson from his thoughts.

“Lady Charlotte,’ he said, cooly falling back to her title in the desperate hope of maintaining proprietary even though he currently found his hands full of her bare skin, softer and more decadent than he had experienced in years. “You were sleeping in your bath. You could have drowned. What in blazes were you thinking?”

She blinked up at him, beautiful even in her confusion. “What are you doing in my chamber?”

“You did not answer my knock,” he snapped, suddenly irritated.”I was concerned for your safety and feared you had run off once again.”

She swallowed and his gaze tracked the delicate flutter of movement in her throat. “I’ve never run off,” she protested mildly. “I was merely sleepy and closed my eyes but for a moment. When I opened them it was to find you here, where you most assuredly do not belong.”

No, he did not, she was right about that, but wrong had never felt so good, he thought. He wanted nothing more than to drag her dripping and naked from the water to her bed, in order to lick every drop of water from her skin.

Damn this would never do.

“Your water grows cold, Charlotte.”

“But yet, I’m not cold at all,” she replied, a tempting goddess beneath the water as the scent of jasmine hung in the air.

“Nevertheless, I insist,” he found himself saying. “You’ve already shown me that you can’t be trusted to look after yourself.”

“Very well,” she agreed, surprising him.

Before he could say another word, she rose from the tub, water flowing away from her body. 

No amount of control could have kept his eyes from devouring her. 

His hungry gaze traveled over the fullness of her breasts, all the way down to her belly and perfectly curved waist to her full hips showcasing the apex of her thighs.

Fuck it all to hell.

He was staring at Charlotte Matheson’s quim wondering what it would taste like.

“Charlotte,” he all but groaned.

He had meant it as a reproach, but instead, it came out as a plea. 

Charlie had taken a gamble and she knew it. What she had done was sinful, scandalous, and daring. Foolhardy as well, if Miles ever found out. She should probably be ashamed of herself or at the very least embarrassed, yet standing before Bass’ intense gaze, not even the chill in the air affected her. The way his eyes raked over her form made a wicked pulse begin between her thighs.

This was the sort of feeling Nora warned her would lead to ruin. She was also sure nothing had ever felt better. She _liked_ the way he looked at her. And the rules? Well, as Uncle Miles was want to say, Rules were made to be broken.

She stepped from the tub only to realize he stood between her and the towel she had hung by the hearth to dry. “My towel, if you please,” she asked, extending her hand.

Grasping the towel, he draped it over her rather unceremoniously. “Cover yourself, Lady Charlotte. Do you want to see yourself ruined?”

She had not thought of it before but the notion held a certain appeal. She had no desire to marry a pale, insipid lord with no other thought than the latest style of cravat. 

“What if it is?” she asked, tucking the ends of the towel between her breasts.

“Then you’ve nearly succeeded,” he growled. “I will, however, return you to your uncle, reputation intact.”

It wasn’t often that Charlie became angry, but this was the very last straw. She stood before him wearing nary a stitch and he had the nerve to act as if it didn’t faze him? She didn’t think before she acted. One moment she was beside the tub, the next she was perched on her tiptoes pressing her lips to his. 

As quickly as it began it was over as his head jerked backward severing their connection. His lips parted as his ragged breath ghosted over hers as they stared at one another. 

She wondered if she had shocked him or If the desire that she felt for him was unreturned. Just when she thought he would turn away from her, he growled low in his throat and slammed his lips against hers once more. She opened beneath the force of him and his tongue swept inside, claiming her as his own.

Here, at last, was the knowledge that he had not been as impervious to her as he pretended as his hands came around her waist, splaying over the small of her back, hauling her against him. 

Nothing could have possibly prepared her for the feeling of rightness that flooded through her as Bass held her in his arms. 

His lips left hers, only to leave a fiery path along her jaw, all the way to her ear. His breath, hot and harsh, made her shiver as his lips moved to her throat next, kissing as he went. 

“Bass, please,” she whispered, not knowing what she was begging for, only that she was.

Her voice, however, caused Bass to tear his lips from her flesh, jerking away from her so quickly that she nearly fell.

“God damn it all to hell,” he muttered, his tone accusatory. “This should have never happened.”

“But it did. It did happen and you can’t change that.”

Bass’ jaw hardened. “It was a shameful lapse on my part. You are young and innocent, no match for a man such as myself and I should have known better”

Charlie rolled her eyes at his eagerness to dismiss what had just happened. “I kissed you first.”

“Yes,” he acknowledged as his eyes fell to her lips for a moment. “But it was a mistake.”

“No, it wasn’t. I knew exactly what I was doing. I wanted to kiss you.”

He shook his head. “I had no right to touch you.”

Charlie took a step towards him. “Did you want to kiss me?”

“No!” he bit out.

Her head tilted slightly to the side as she studied him. “Why did you kiss me back then? Hold me in your arms?”

His lip curled. “You demonstrate your youth, madam. My reaction was base. Once my mind caught up to my actions I ended the foolishness. It cannot and will not be repeated, Charlotte.”

“Charlie.”

“Excuse me?”

Charlie shrugged. “Charlotte seems so impersonal now, after what we’ve shared. Don’t you think, Bass?”

“It is Charlotte and Sebastian while in close quarters due to our family’s connections. Otherwise, it is Marquess Carisbrooke and Lady Charlotte, and you will not indulge in such foolishness again.”

“Whatever it is between us, it is not foolishness and you know it,” she replied, wondering how he was able to rule his emotions so well. Fierce and hungry one moment, frigid and immovable the next.

“There is nothing between us, Charlotte. I advise you to get some sleep after I empty your tub as we leave tomorrow at first light.”

Charlie wanted nothing more than to rail against his assertion that there was nothing between them, but her pride would not allow it. 

Instead, she dropped into a mocking curtsey, still clothed in nothing but her towel. “I bid you goodnight and hope that my family remembers me before you are tempted to kiss me again.”

Bass’ eyes narrowed before offering her a bow and a quiet “good evening” before leaving the way he had come, slamming the door in his wake.

* * *

Charlotte Matheson was going to drive him mad. Their journey had scarcely begun and Bass was excruciatingly aware of every move she made. Though the December air was unseasonably cold, creeping into the traveling carriage he had procured for their journey, he was hot. His cravat was too tight around his neck, his jacket too constricting at his shoulders, the confines of the carriage growing smaller by the moment.

Across from him, Charlie sighed. “This is going to be a long trip.”

He couldn’t agree with her more. Perhaps he would be better served by joining the coachman on the box. Keeping an eye upon the troublesome minx had seemed a good idea despite the potential danger to her reputation, but he was fast discovering the unintended consequences of keeping Charlotte Matheson within arm’s reach. 

“If you intend to ignore me, that is,” she added. “You haven’t spoken a single word to me today.”

Had he not? Given his irritation with the situation, it was probably true. Pressing his lips together, he kept his eyes on the passing scenery. Perhaps if he ignored her she would go to sleep, and if she was asleep, he could pretend he had not seen her naked last night.

Every glorious, perfect bit of her.

“Have you nothing at all to say, Bass?” she persisted. “You could at least comment upon the weather,” she continued an edge of irritation entering her voice.

He made a noncommittal sound, part grunt, part growl as he had no intention of holding a dialogue with the little minx. He could only hope she would not divulge the kiss they had shared with her uncle. Or the moment she had stood, nude and dripping before him as she left her bath. Clenching his jaw, he tried to strike that image from his mind as his cock twitched.

“Very well,” she snapped. “If you won’t speak, I will. This journey will be ridiculously long with nothing but awkward silence the entire way. You can’t truly mean to ignore me, can you?”

Bass closed his eyes as he breathed slowly through his nose. Damn, she was determined, but so was he.

“It seems unseasonably cold for December, does it not?” she asked.

This too, he ignored.

“Do you think it will snow?”

Hell if he knew. The sky had been gray that morning, a moist nip in the air suggesting precipitation was possible. He should probably pray right then and there that nary a snowflake fell from the sky. Traveling without notice, just the two of them and a coachman was treacherous enough. Adding snow to the mix was inviting disaster.

No. his mind refused to contemplate such an outcome.

Across from him, Charlie began to drum her fingers upon the leather seat. “How old are you?”

Eight and thirty to her eighteen. Old enough to know better than to allow himself to succumb to the pleasure of the flesh. Old enough to refuse the kiss of his oldest friend's innocent niece. Hadn’t he dodged enough matchmaking mama’s in his time to avoid this honeytrap?

“You are eight and thirty,” she answered for herself. “Nearly an age with Miles.”

He bit his lip from voicing his surprise that she knew. Though of course having been apart of her life since she was born, perhaps not too surprising.

“I have a proposition for you, Charlotte.”

Her brows hiked skyward. “Oh?”

“Yes. I will speak to you during this journey in return for your honesty.”

Charlie eyed him suspiciously. “In what fashion?”

“Tell me where you were and why you returned home with bloodied skirts and I shall be happy to indulge in senseless chatter with you.”

The corner of Charlie's lip turned up. “Here is another proposition for you. Indulge my senseless chatter and I won’t tell Uncle Miles you kissed me.”

His blood chilled. Charlotte Matheson was a veritable siren and he would be damn if he allowed her to lure him into the rocks. “You kissed me,” he ground out.

He watched as she blinked, her expression morphing into one of a wide-eyed innocent, completely feigned, the hoyden. “That’s not how I remember it, Bass. Whom do you think my uncle will believe?

Whom indeed.

Miles would believe Bass over her as he was always scolding her for her antics, being the ringleader of the group. Bass might be a drunken womanizer, but he would never betray her Uncle.

“If you would lie to keep from revealing the truth, let it be a mark against your soul, Charlotte. Not mine.”

Charlie pursed her lips at the chastisement. “Tell me, Bass, why do you wish to know where I was?”

“To protect you from yourself,” he answered. “Someone must. You were gone all night, doing Lord knows what, with Lord knows who. You’re incredibly lucky your skirts were the only thing marred by your recklessness.”

Charlie was well aware of the risks she took, but hearing the disapproval in his voice stung. “Have you never wished for something you could not have?” she asked.

His blue eyes held hers. “It would seem I have.”

Charlie inhaled sharply. Surely he did not mean her.

“What was it?” she dared to ask.

Bass bit back a smile. “You tell me and I shall tell you.”

She was tempted. Dear heaven was she tempted. But she would not entrust her secret to Sebastian Monroe no matter how desperately she wanted to hear him say he wanted her.

“If I tell you, then you’ll tell Miles,” she replied, knowing that it was true. Bass’ first loyalty was to her uncle. “And if you tell Miles, he’ll make me stop.”

Bass pursed his lips in annoyance. “He’ll protect you Charlotte. There is a difference.”

“Would you?’

“Of course. You’re like a sister to me.”

“I did not realize you kissed your sisters in such a manner.”

His nostrils flared. “What happened yesterday will never be repeated. It was a mistake and a grave lapse of judgment and control on my part. You are young, headstrong, and reckless, much as you’ve always been and unknowing of what you do. Being older and more mature, I know better than to indulge in such folly.”

It was her turn to clench her jaw, as he dismissed her as being too flighty or young to understand the ramifications of her actions. She may have acted with haste but it didn’t mean she hadn’t wanted to kiss him. “It did not feel like folly to me.”

His eyes darkened, his gaze drifting down to her mouth before jerking them upward once more. “That is because you are little more than a girl.”

She flinched. How dare he act as if she did not possess the capacity to understand her own emotions. Little more than a girl was she? Her uncle often said she was reckless with a side of stubbornness and before she could think she gave in to both.


	3. Chapter 3

Rising from her seat, she took a step across the carriage to plant herself firmly across his lap and wrapped an arm around his neck.

“Say it again,” she dared him.

His hands clamped tightly on her waist but did not attempt to remove her. “What do you think you’re doing, Charlotte?”

Being reckless.

Showing him she was a woman.

Daring him to deny this attraction between them.

She was doing any number of things, but she said none of them aloud. Instead, she spoke with deeds instead of words, pressing her lips against his. She kissed him as she had wanted to do from the moment he had joined her in the carriage.

To her utter satisfaction, he kissed her back.

With a growl, he settled her more firmly against him, his mouth moving as it had last night, swiftly owning her lips. One of his hands slid up her spine, finding its way to the nape of her neck where her skin was bare. His fingers sank into her hair, cradling her skull, angling her so he could deepen the kiss.

His tongue licked at the seam of her lips, drawing a soft mewling noise from her when his tongue touched hers, his lips demanding. His thighs were firm against her bottom, his chest a rigid wall warming her to her core. 

One hand tightened on her waist, as the other slipped beneath her skirts, gliding over her ankle, up her calf, all the way to her thigh. When he reached her center, Charlie’s legs parted her legs instinctively, granting him access. She did not know what it was she wanted, only that she ached for his touch. As his thumb brushed against her center, she cried out, her hips bucking against his hand, breaking Bass out of whatever spell she had cast over him. 

“Damn it all to hell,” he cursed, removing his hand from beneath her skirt and promptly depositing her back on the seat across from him. “Does your recklessness have no end, Charlotte?”

Charlie, breathless, and flushed, replied, “No, it does not, but neither does yours, it would seem.”

* * *

When they stopped at the Albatross Inn to change horses, Bass knew he was in trouble. The absolute worst kind of trouble.

Though they had only been traveling for three hours, the time after Charlotte had settled herself into his lap and kissed him had seemed to stretch on for eternity. An eternity of attempting to quell the raging need burning through him. An eternity of trying, unsuccessfully, to ignore her presence.

That bloody sound she had made, soft and breathy, a prelude to lovemaking, would be the death of him. He couldn’t shake it from his mind, unable to cease thinking about it and wanting to hear it again. Wanting to be the source of her every sigh of satisfaction.

Wanting to make her his.

Which was not just impossible, but damn impossible.

Wanting nothing more than to drink this day away, He paused outside the well-worn door to the private sitting room he had acquired for her before rapping his knuckles against it.

“Bass, is that you?” She called out sweetly.

Taking a deep breath, he cleared his throat. “Yes.”

He had instructed her to bar the door while he saw to the particulars of their continued journey, and heard the bolt scrape back. 

As the door opened, he noticed that she looked somehow smaller outside the confines of the carriage. 

Younger as well. 

A grim reminder that she was twenty years his junior and utterly forbidden. Bloody hell she was beautiful.

“I was wondering when you would decide to join me,” she greeted, sweeping back for him to enter.

He remained where he was. “I am not joining you. I am fetching you. Are you ready to continue our journey?”

Her disappointment was almost palpable, but she covered it well. Only one who knew her well would notice. “Don’t tell me. You refuse to partake in a light repast with me until I confess all my sins.”

“You’re not old enough to possess any sins, Charlotte. As for your troubling behavior thus far, I will leave it to Miles to correct your hoydenish ways.”

“You did kiss me back,” she reminded him.

“A man cannot help his instinctive reaction. You could have been anyone and I would have responded similarly,”

Her lips pinched into a firm line and he knew his words had found their mark. He felt a pang of regret before chasing it away with the reminder that keeping her at a distance was a necessity.

“If that is truely how you feel, then you won’t mind joining me for some tea and biscuits,” she said with a cheerful smile. “Please, do come in _Marquess Carisbrooke_.”

Bass clenched his jaw. “As you wish, Lady Charlotte.”

Crossing the threshold, he entered the small, dingy, private room she had been inhabiting. It smelled of dampness and smoke and held the sourness of spilled ale, but above it, all was the unmistakable scent of Jasmine.

The door closed and they were once again alone. 

In a small space. 

He inhaled slowly, forcing himself to remember Miles and how they had been friends longer than this girl had been alive. Surely his friendship was worth more than one girl.

“Thank you, Bass. How do you take your tea?” she asked before silence could descend between them.

“Sugar,” he responded.

With an effortless grace to rival any duchess, she poured his tea first and then her own. When he accepted the chipped saucer their fingers brushed and without gloves, the skin to skin contact sent a fresh jolt of awareness through him.

“Thank you,” he choked out, recalling his manners.

“You are most welcome,” she replied with a sinfully, sunny smile.

He had pleased her and the realization pleased him in turn before he could think better of it.

He took a sip of his tea, desperate to rein in his thoughts. This was not a drawing-room. He was not her suitor. He was escorting her to her brother, who had every intention of marrying her off to some insipid lordling. The notion ought not to irk him, after all, did he not have the same plans for Angela and Cynthia? Regardless it did.

He tamped down his unwanted emotions and sipped his tea.

“Bread and Jam?” she asked. “Mrs. Wilson told me she makes the jam herself.”

Bass’ head shot up. “You did not tell her your name did you?”

Her brow furrowed. “Of course I did.”

Bloody hell. His stomach sank to his boots. The Matheson name was renowned. If word emerged that she was traveling alone, without a companion, she would be ruined.

And so would he.

“I told her my name was Mrs. Sebastian Monroe,” she explained with a grin.

He huffed out a laugh as much in relief as genuine amusement. Of course, she hadn’t been so foolish, the minx had only been yanking his chain.

She looked up at him from under her lashes as she took a sip of her tea, her cheeks flushing.

Clearing his throat, he settled his tea back upon the table. “It’s time we should be going.”

* * *

By the time the sun was setting and their carriage came to a stop at an inn called the Lively Whale, Charlie was reminded of why she disliked traveling to the country. 

After their initial stop, Bass had joined the coachman on the box rather than sharing the carriage with her. Without even a book to read, she was left to watch the slowly passing landscape wishing she was not alone.

When at last the carriage door opened to reveal Bass, his blue eyes burned into hers. “I’m afraid we have a problem.”

“And that is?” 

Short of an invading army of soldiers over the horizon, she could not fathom any problem bad enough to keep her trapped in this carriage another moment. Her bottom ached, her legs were stiff and she needed a chamber pot, immediately.

“The inn is nearly full and there is but one room available. There are also some unsavory-looking characters within. I cannot afford to allow anything to happen to you on my watch and I cannot trust your word that you will not wander off or get yourself into any further scrapes while out of my sight.”

Wait. Was he suggesting what she thought he was suggesting?

“And…” she prodded, needing to hear the actual words.

Bass braced himself. “I’m afraid we will need to share the room so I can see to your protection. Naturally, I will sleep on the floor. I have told the innkeeper that we are husband and wife.”

Charlie bit back the smile that wanted to rush from her lips. After avoiding her for the entire day, he was able to hide from her no more. 

He took her silence for shock.

“Trust me, Charlotte,” Bass continued, his tone grim, “when I assure you I am only looking after your safety. No lapse of propriety will occur. Your reputation will remain intact. No one need ever be wiser and there will be no opportunity for some unscrupulous villain to force his way into your chamber while I’m bedding in the stables with the coachman. You will tell no one that you are Charlotte Matheson, or that your uncle is Miles Matheson. Nor will you tell them we are not truly wed. Anything else would be sheer ruin for both of us. Do you understand?”

“If you please, Bass, I’ve grown dreadfully weary of this conveyance,” she replied with a smile, offering her hand.

Taking her hand, Bass helped her down and then wrapped it beneath his forearm.

She barely managed to hold back her sigh of contentment.

* * *

Bass could not allow her to see how much she affected him. 

Staring into the flames of the grate in the room he shared with Charlotte, he thought back to that morning when he had kissed her. 

Stroking her tongue with his own as his hand had slid beneath her skirts – No! he thought, raking his fingers through his already disheveled hair. 

He would not think of that. Charlotte Matheson was dangerous. The less he thought of her the better. It was unfortunate that she was in the same chamber. Even more unfortunate that he would be forced to sleep on the worn floors beneath his boots, not even a rug to ease the hardness of the scuffed boards.

You can’t have her, he repeated to himself over and over, but the knowing didn’t stop the longing. 

Or the want. 

The want of having her, kissing her, joining her in the bed instead of taking his ease on the floor below him. He closed his eyes as her voice reached his ears.

“You may turn around now.”

Slowly, he turned to face her. Thankfully, her traveling dress had not required his assistance in either donning or removing, leading him into the false belief that he would be absolved of all temptation. However, the one thing he had not prepared himself for, was the sight of her in a nightdress.

Creamy white, covering her from the top of her neck to the bottom of her ankles, he had never seen a more erotic sight. 

A rising tide of lust rolled through him as his eyes raked over her and what seemed to him nearly transparent fabric that allowed him to see the pink buds of her nipples beneath. 

Jerking his gaze upward, he settled upon her face and found even that a struggle as he tried to ignore the flowing waves of her unbound hair trailing over her shoulders and down her back. 

Staring at her as intently as he was, he could not help but see when she shivered.

“Are you cold?” he asked, surprised at how husky his voice had become. “I can stoke the fire.”

“I’m fine,” she replied softly, watching him. “Thank you.”

Bass cleared his throat. “We ought to get our rest. The morning will come sooner than expected.”

Charlie nodded as she looked at the pallet he had made for himself upon the floor. “Are you sure you want to sleep on the floor, Bass? The bed is large enough for two.”

Having lived in the same house as Miles, surely she was not so sheltered and innocent that she did not realize the wrongness of her suggestion? Searching her gaze, he tried to find the answer but only saw only the promise of something he dared not think of.

“The floor shall do,” he replied.

She tilted her head. “It will be drafty, I expect.”

Indeed it would.

The night had grown colder and the inn was a far comfort from home. Instead, he was standing in a room with a stiff cock he could do nothing to remedy. How the hell was he supposed to survive the night? It was all he could do to keep from hauling her into his arms and carrying her to the bed.

“Thank you for your concern, Charlotte, but sharing a bed with you would be not only improper but foolhardy as well. It’s the floor or nothing.”

Charlie licked her lips. “Are you certain? I feel quite guilty. After all, you would not be here at all if it were not for me.”

Hell and damnation.

“Thank you, but no,” he managed to get out with the last bit of politeness in his body.

“Very well. Goodnight then, Bass,” she said, turning away towards the bed.

Bass thanked the Lord for small mercies, relief washing through him, but the sight of her rucking her nightdress up to her knees stole it away. He knew he should avert his gaze, but was unable to do so as his mouth went dry and his heart thudded within his chest. The hem of her gown climbed even higher, revealing the curve of her thigh as she scrambled into the bed.

As he watched, she flipped the counterpane over herself and then settled into the mattress with a satisfied sounding sigh. 

"Bass?” she called out softly.

“Damn it, woman, the floor is fine,” he snapped.

“I was simply going to ask that you blow out the candles.”

With an aggravated breath, he stalked to the candles and blew them out, plunging them into darkness with only the soft glow from the fire in the grate. Settling on his makeshift bed, he smothered a groan. 

The floor was hard. 

And there was a draft.

With a growl he lay back, leaving his boots on, and drew a blanket over himself, willing his erection to subside.

* * *

Sleep was eluding her.

Her feet, always cold, felt like twin blocks of ice beneath the blankets. The bed was lumpy and the pillow smelled of smoke and grease. The fire had diminished to nothing but glowing coals in the grate. The moon was too bright, casting a sliver of light through the window dressing to shine in her face. 

She rolled over with a sigh.

“If you keep sighing all night, neither of us will get any rest,” grumbled Bass from the floor.

Despite his comment, she heaved another sigh staring up at the ceiling. “I cannot sleep.”

“Nor can I with all your fidgeting,” he mumbled.

Well, what did he expect? Charlie thought crossly. The accommodations were not what she was used to, nor had she ever spent the night sharing a chamber with a man before. She felt strange and shivery but she couldn’t tell him that. So instead she voiced her main complaint.

“My feet are cold.”

“I’ll stoke the fire again,” he sighed, rising to his feet. She could see his faint outline as he stalked towards the fireplace.

“I don’t think that will help.”

“Of course, it will,” he insisted, stirring the fire to bring it back to life.

“The fire is too far away,” and so was he, she decided.

“What would you have me do?” he asked with a weary tone.

“Lend me some of your warmth,” she suggested,

“Absolutely not.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“You must be cold on the floor,” she tried again, listening to the wind howling outside.

“I have blankets, as do you. They will have to suffice.”

Charlie's teeth chattered in response as she shifted to face away from him. Silence descended once more, but she still felt as though she had been wandering shoeless in a blizzard. She gave another heaving sigh.

“Devil take it,” he hissed.

Charlie bit her lip as she listened to a sudden flurry of sounds just before the mattress dipped.

He was joining her.


	4. Chapter 4

She would have not believed it had she not felt it. The blankets lifted and suddenly there was a large male body alongside hers. 

Instinctively she scooted closer only to discover that he too, was cold. 

“You’re frozen, Bass. Why did you insist you were comfortable upon the floor?”

“Propriety,” he answered grimly. “I have since realized, however, that between the draft on the floor and your fussing, I shall not have a wink of sleep all night unless I make an effort to make us both more comfortable, propriety be damned.”

She smiled into the darkness, grateful he could not see how pleased she was. Settling deeper into the mattress, she slid even closer to him. “I'm happy you have decided to see reason, at last. No one else needs to ever know if that is what concerns you. I am frightfully good at keeping secrets.”

“I know you are and it’s a most damning trait in a young woman of marriageable age.” The warmth of his breath brushing over her ear took the sting out of the words.

Using the bed as leverage she scooted closer until her bottom connected with something long and firm. “What if I do not wish to marry?”

His hand grasped her waist. “Don’t come any closer. We've already broken enough rules for one night.”

Ignoring his warning, she wriggled against him. “Some rules ought to be broken.”

“Charlotte,” he warned, “do not push me. We can share the warmth but that is all we will be sharing. Do you understand?”

“My feet are still cold,” she replied. 

Muttering something underneath his breath that sounded suspiciously like a curse word, his stockinged feet caught her bare ones between his own to offer her some warmth.

“How's that?” He asked thickly. “Better?”

“Yes, thank you,” she replied, pressing her bottom more firmly against him as his hand tightened on her waist.

By tomorrow evening, they would reach Roseland Hall. From that point forward she would be surrounded by her uncle and a gaggle of unwanted suitors he and Bass’ mother had invited with a mind towards seeing the four girls married off, a titled husband for each.

It was a grim fate, in Charlie’s opinion and she refused to go down without a fight. With her mind made up, she shifted in the bed until she was facing him. 

“What the devil do you think you’re doing, Charlotte?’

Reaching up, she cupped his face with her hands. “Touching you,” she whispered. “Touching you the way I’ve wanted to do ever since you abandoned me in the carriage this morning.”

He was still beneath her caress but didn’t withdraw. “You should not,” he replied quietly in the darkness.

“But I want to,” she protested as her thumbs traced his cheekbones, her fingers brushing against the whiskers on his jaw. One of his legs had found its way between hers and she ground herself against it, her nightdress bunched up around her waist. 

His hands closed over hers, rough and steady, but he did not push her away. He held her fast, his breath fanning over her mouth. “I warned you, Charlotte. This is not a game. You’re an innocent who knows nothing of the world and Miles would never forgive me.”

“I never said I wished to marry.”

“But marry you must and so you shall. It is the way of things. And as beautiful and tempting as you are, I will not ruin you.”

“But what if I don’t wish to marry an old boring Lord? Has anyone thought of that?” She rolled her hips as she spoke, seeking more of him. 

His grip changed, moving so that he was encircling her wrists. “Do you trust me with your secret?”

She hesitated, tempted for the first time to reveal where she had been and what she had been doing two nights ago. But then she thought of Miles and how quickly and ruthlessly he would put an end to her excursions and make certain it was impossible for her to ever escape again. She also knew he would destroy her grandfather in the process. If the secret were hers alone, Miles would have no way of knowing who she met or why and no one else would be adversely affected. 

“No, I can’t tell you, Bass.”

“If you cannot trust me with your secret, then you have no business trusting me with the rest of you, Charlotte. Goodnight.” 

Releasing her wrists, he rolled away from her, presenting her with a view of his broad back.

* * *

Bass woke to the faint sounds of dawn, the scent of jasmine, and the fullness of a breast nestled in his hand. His leg was slung over a pair of feminine thighs, causing his encased cock to slide against the delightfully pert bottom of his bedmate. 

“Charlotte,” he muttered as if a bucket of cold water had doused him. 

In the depth of the night, he had finally succumbed and joined her on the bed.

Thank goodness he had not given in to his weakness and committed any greater sin than he already had thus far. Sleeping in the same chamber was bad enough, but sleeping in the same bed? He suppressed a shudder. If Miles ever found out what he had done, the consequences would be dire and he couldn't blame it on anyone other than himself and his own stupidity.

Charlie made a sleepy sound of contentment, shifting against him, arousing his cocks interest once more, tempting him to roll her partially nude body beneath him and give them both the release they so desperately needed. Unable to resist, he gave her breast a squeeze, rolling the nipple between his thumb and forefinger as he ducked his head down to press a kiss against her neck. 

A hum of satisfaction vibrated against his lips, so he did it again allowing his tongue to flick over her skin for a taste, and at that moment his need for her nearly overwhelmed him. From the moment he had realized she had bloomed into a woman, he had wanted her. “Fuck,” he muttered half-crazed with want. He kissed her throat following an unknown path to her jaw and then up to her ear, pressing against the pulse just behind it. 

“I have been aiding my grandfather,” Charlie admitted in a rush of breath. “He has been training me as a midwife.”

Her admission was as stunning as it was unexpected. 

He nibbled at her ear, gathering his thoughts before he answered. Not only had she willingly told him a secret she had been zealously guarding, but she was also confessing that she trusted him with the rest of her as well. She was offering herself up to him, but Bass could not accept. Instead, he thought about her admission and what it meant. 

“You, Charlotte Matheson, one of the wealthiest women in England, wishes to be a midwife?’

“Yes,” she replied. “I always have.”

Bass inhaled deeply. “Your mother?”

Charlie nodded. “I want to be able to save someone else from the grief my family went through.”

“Charlotte, nothing you do will bring your family back.”

“You sound just like Miles. He’ll hear nothing of it, of course. I am to marry a noble and that’s the end of it.”

The thought of her marrying someone else, some nameless, faceless lord, sent a flood of fury through him, even as he continued to stroke her hair. “You are young, Charlotte, you’ll change your mind.”

“I’m old enough to know what I want Bass, and now I have told you my secret, for better or worse.”

“Thank you for telling me,” he whispered near her ear, pressing a kiss just below it, “but we must all accept the path given us. Don’t chase after what can never be.”

Knowing he must get out of bed, Bass rose to a sitting position. Dawn had come and the carriage and horse would soon be readied. They had a long journey ahead of them and the day was once more unseasonably cold.

Before he could make good his escape, she turned to face him, catching at his arm. “What if we don’t accept the paths we are given, Bass? What if we dare to make our own?”

He could not keep his gaze from roaming hungrily over her face, her bright blue eyes like a summer sky, elegant cheekbones and wide pink lips he longed to taste once more. The counterpane had fallen to her waist and beneath her white nightdress, her breasts were full, the stiff peaks begging for his mouth.

Bass met her eyes before shrugging away from her touch.

“Wait, Bass, please. What if this is the path I want?”

Bass drug a hand through his curls, knowing they were talking about two different things that had become twisted into one. “You can’t possibly know what you're saying, Charlotte. You are young and reckless and can’t-”

“Stop!” she cried, rising on her knees and crawling toward him, closing the distance separating them. “Stop saying I’m young as if I am a child who can not think for herself. This is what I want. It has always been what I wanted.”

Bass shook his head. “You aren’t thinking of the consequences.”

Oh, but she was. She could think of nothing but. Miles would refuse to let her work as a midwife, just as he had the first time she had brought it up to him and why she had to resort to sneaking out of the house to see her grandfather without his knowledge. 

Her fortune was in Miles’ control, thanks to her dead father, who hadn’t lived to understand his daughter was just as smart as he. Her life wasn't her own, never had been, but that didn’t mean she was going to give up fighting for what she wanted.

“I am thinking about the consequences,” she told him fiercely. “If I must marry someone of my uncle’s choosing, then at least I know I have done my utmost. Surrendering is not an option.”

Turning back to her, his gaze was smoldering. “I will not dishonor you, Charlotte, regardless of what you think you feel for me.”

Charlie shook her head. There he went again, implying she was too young to know what she wanted. She grew weary of condescension. “I know what I feel,” she told him, reaching out to grab his shirtwaist, pulling him towards her, and pressing her lips to his.

* * *

Bass wasn't sure how it had happened but the next thing he knew, he was with Charlie on the bed, hands full of creamy thighs and his stiff cock aligned perfectly to her center, kissing her as if his life depended on it. 

Charlie was eager and responsive beneath him, her arms twined around his neck as she made a lusty, breathy intoxicating sound. There were many reasons why they should not be doing this but every single one of them fled in favor of him claiming her. 

Kissing down her throat, his hand left her thigh to release the buttons on her high-necked gown one by one, his lips following their downward progress until her breasts sprang free, the sweet pink tips begging for his lips. He flicked his tongue over the hardened peaks until she cried out. Jesus, she was so responsive and so hungry as her hands found the knot of his cravat he had loosened to sleep, casting it away as she fumbled with the buttons on his shirt. 

Now that he had given in he could not stop. He sucked, drawing hard, then grazed his teeth against her flesh until her nipples were distended, a dark, dusky pink, glistening and pointing upward. 

Wanting to taste her everywhere, he slid down the bed, settling between her thighs, dipping his head to press a kiss against her hip. 

“Bass?” Charlotte asked, her fingers in his hair, “Whatever are you doing?”

“Do you trust me, Charlotte?” he asked in return, smoothing his hand over a knee.

“Of course I do,” she gasped as he ran his lips down the inside of her thigh. 

Pushing her gown higher, he took his first look at her cunt which glistened the same pink as her nipples. Spreading her thighs, he inhaled her scent before dragging his tongue up her seam. 

Jerking in surprise, Charlie cried out, her hands tightening in his hair. Licking deeper, he parted her folds, sucking her clit into his mouth, before returning to her hot channel. Bass ate like a man starved, determined to make this the best orgasm of her life, while still preserving her innocence. He was the worst kind of bastard, no doubt, but there would be no repercussions to what they shared here. 

The solid sound of a fist hitting the door, interrupted his thoughts. 

Beneath him, Charlie stiffened as their eyes met. 

Then the knocking began anew, a familiar voice attached. 

“Bass! Open this door before I break it down!” Miles bellowed as Bass and Charlie stared at each other. 

“I believe your uncle has arrived,” he said, rather breathlessly.

* * *

“What the devil is the meaning of this?” Miles demanded. 

Charlie winced at the barely leashed violence in her uncle's tone. 

After all but battering down the door and ordering Bass from her chamber, he had scarcely given her time to dress before demanding an audience with her.

She stared at him, wondering where to begin, wondering what Bass had told him if anything. Would he keep her secret?

“Charlie, I demand an answer at once,” Miles growled when she failed to respond.

“Bass was kind enough to escort me to Roseland Hall after I was left behind in London,” she explained, looking over his shoulder due to his withering glare.

Miles' eyes narrowed. “That does not explain why the Marquess Carisbrooke shared a chamber with you last night.”

Oh, dear. She had called him Bass and Miles had taken note. “This was the only room, and given the nature of the establishment, he deemed it best to stay nearby. He slept on the floor.”

“Charlie,” Miles all but bellowed, “do you think me stupid?”

An eyebrow jerked up as she tilted her head. “Well, you did forget me, after all.”

“Bloody hell, now is not the time for insolence,” he ground out. “This is not one of your typical larks, Charlie. This is deadly serious. Your future and your reputation are in danger. I need you to tell me the truth of what happened between you and Monroe.”

“Absolutely nothing happened between us, Miles. He was a perfect gentleman, and the only crime he’s guilty of is looking after me and bringing me safely to you.”

“You’re lying,” Miles immediately replied. “You are staying here as husband and wife, Goddamn it.”

“To protect my reputation,” she defended.

“Don’t think I’ve not noted the way Bass has looked upon you in the past, Charlie. I will take the blame for not taking steps to prevent something so ruinous from happening, but I expected my best friend, a man who has known you since you were a babe, to have enough honor and loyalty from despoiling my very niece.”

Charlie rolled her eyes. “Uncle Miles, he did nothing untoward. I was left all alone at Matheson house because you forgot me. He was my saving grace.”

“Utterly alone,” he spat out as he paced, raking a hand through his hair. “Goddamn, Son of a bitch, I forgot about the servants. I hope you understand the ramifications of this, Charlie. You were alone with Bass two nights in a row as an unwed female. It is wholly unacceptable and you have been thoroughly compromised. Our only hope is to find you a suitable husband from among the guests invited to Roseland Hall."

“No. I already told you, Miles, I do not wish to marry some foppish lord.”

Miles pursed his lips, stopping in his pacing to look at her. “It’s too late, Charlie. The damage has been done. You must marry quickly.”

“Fine. If I must marry someone then I should prefer to marry the Marquess.”

“Absolutely not,” Miles replied, crossing his arms across his chest. "He’s forbidden from so much as speaking to you ever again.”

“Miles, He’s your best friend. None of this is his fault. I am the reason I was left behind at Matheson house. I had only returned after you had all departed.”

Miles stilled. “I beg your pardon?”

“I was out. I had gone to aid in a birth and it did not go well.”

“I forbade you! I forbade you from seeking out your grandfather. It is his fault your mother and brother were lost. The very reason why your father took his own life.”

“That’s not true, Miles and you know it,” Charlie replied softly. “If I can help other families to not go through what ours did, then I must do so. It was certainly not the first time I helped him, it was simply the first time I was gone all night. When I returned home, the house was empty.”

“Damn it, Charlie! Why must you be so stubborn and reckless? You could have been robbed or attacked. What were you thinking, going about town on your own, sneaking from the house like a thief? I ought to lock you in your chamber for the next year after such a flagrant disregard for my authority and your welfare.”

“Not that your mistresses didn’t slink in and out of the house over the years,” she said, holding up a hand to keep him from interrupting. “Punish me if you must, but The Marquess is not to blame for my actions. He was simply trying to save me from myself. He knew how terribly upset you would be and only wished to protect me from your wrath.”

She had never seen her Uncle as furious as he was right now. So much so that she took a step back in retreat, wondering what he would do. She knew he would never strike her, but there was sheer rage in his eyes as he stared at her.

“You’re correct, Charlotte. You alone are to blame for your actions and now you must face the consequences.”

Charlie stiffened her spine as she met his eyes. “What will you do?’

“I don’t know. All I know is that I can’t stand to look upon you for another moment. If you so much as leave this room, I will lock you in your chamber for the next century. Do you understand?”

Charlie nodded. “I understand.”

With a muttered curse, he spun on his heel and began to stalk from the chamber before suddenly stopping. Reaching into the bedclothes, he plucked a scrap of white fabric from them, holding it aloft.

Bass’ cravat.

“Not as alone in the blame as you would have me believe,” he growled, slamming the door shut behind him.

* * *

Bass had known the risks he had taken by dallying with his best friend's niece, but he had never been one that could keep himself away from the ladies. However, this had been reckless even for him. So, when Miles’ fist had met his jaw, he kept his mouth shut, accepting all the hurled insults and anger. No amount of explanation could absolve him of the sins he had committed. At the end of the day, Charlotte was not his to deflower and he should have known better.

What he had not expected was for Miles to seek him out while he was settling the tab and preparing to make his way back to London. “If you have come to hit me a second time, brother, you should know I plan to hit back.”

One hand on his hip, Miles ran the other through his hair. “What I propose is a different blow entirely.”

Bass clenched his jaw in anticipation, wondering just what Charlotte had revealed of their dalliance.

Miles heaved a sigh. “I spoke to Charlie and she told me everything.”

“I see,” Bass finally answered.

“Damnit, Bass,” Miles sighed again. “I know about Mr. Porter. I know about her leaving Matheson House, and I know you were only acting in her best interest, escorting her back to me.”

“I’m relieved she was honest with you. I have advised her she cannot carry on as she has been. She’s damned fortunate no ill has befallen her yet. What she's doing isn’t just reckless, it’s dangerous. I hope you plan on putting a stop to it.”

Miles nodded. “We agree on how foolish and careless she has been, but I’m afraid I won’t be able to put a stop to her wild ways.”

Bass frowned. “Surely you won’t allow her to carry on as she has?"

“I do not,” Miles reassured him. “I intend for her to get married. It’s the only answer. I underestimated her desire to work with her grandfather. I realize now, how troubling her mother’s death was to her. Once she’s married and if her husband approves, perhaps she can seek out her calling in an environment that is safe both for her person and her reputation.”

A scoff escaped Bass’ lips. “You can’t possibly believe any Lord would allow her to do such a thing. She would be miserable and so would the fop you shackle her to."

Miles grinned at that point, resting a hand upon Bass’ shoulder. 

It should have been his first clue. 

“Fortunately for Charlie, I have no intention of seeing her weeded to a mere lord. She’s going to marry you, Bass.

Bass’ eyes went wide. “Me?” he asked, not possibly hearing him correctly.

“Yes, you, Bass. You seem the most likely candidate for the task. I need someone I can trust to keep her waywardness in check and she needs a husband that won’t crush her spirit. It might as well be the man who spent the entire night in her bed, wouldn’t you say.”

Well, Fuck. 

“Your cravat was in the bedclothes,” Miles said with a frown. “You compromised her and now you’re going to marry her. Just think how happy your maman will be.”


	5. Chapter 5

Charlie descended from the carriage at Roseland Hall in tears after having spent the remainder of the journey being scolded by her uncle for her impetuousness.

It was only after they had nearly reached their destination, the carriage ambling up the drive, that he had truly shocked her.

“There is just enough time for the banns to be read before Christmas.”

She stilled, shiting her teary countenance from the window to her unsmiling uncle. “I already told you I have no intention of wedding one of the lords you have invited for the house party. You shall simply have to settle for finding husbands for Mia, Cynthia, and Angela.”

“Though none of them are perfect, neither are they as recently compromised as you are,” he reminded her.

“I am not compromised,” Charlie argued for nearly the hundredth time, stamping her foot against the bottom of the carriage for emphasis.

“The cravat in your bed suggests otherwise.”

Charlie groaned, closing her eyes as she rolled her head back against her seat. “Then at least allow me time to find a suitor of my own liking. Please Uncle,” she begged.

“That won’t be possible as I’ve already chosen Marquess Carisbrooke. Hopefully, he can keep you from wandering all over London in the middle of the night.”

“What? No, Uncle Miles. He’ll hate me for this. Please, I beg you, please, don’t make Bass marry me.”

Leaping from the carriage, he turned to offer her a hand down. “You thought I would simply allow him to compromise my niece without making him answer for it?” He asked with a raised brow.

“After speaking to you, I came to realize that he had been escorting you to Roseland Hall intending to keep you safe. I also realized there was only one solution to my problem.”

“Oh Miles, how could you?” Charlie cried.

He slanted a shrewd look in her direction. “It would seem that the two of you made that decision for me.”

“And if he doesn’t want to marry me? Have you considered that?”

“Bass will do what's best for this family.”

“I will not have him forced into marrying me, Miles!” she insisted as they reached the top of the steps and approached the front door.

“He had a choice to make and he made it,” Miles responded sternly. “I expect the two of you to refrain from further scandal for the duration of the house party. I’ll not have a whiff of anything inappropriate ruin the other girl’s prospects. The banns will be read and the two of you shall be wed before Christmas day.

There was no time to argue further as a second carriage pulled up behind theirs in the drive and the front door swept open to reveal Nora and Bass’ mother, looking concerned.

“Oh, Maman,” Charlie wept, letting herself be swept up in Lady Monroe’s arms, Nora patting her back as Bass trudged up the stairs. 

“Hush now, my darling,” the older woman said, comforting the girl. “Go with Nora and she shall take you to your chambers. A hot bath and a spot of tea will help whatever’s got you down.”

Exchanging a look and a smile with Nora, Lady Monroe turned to her son.

* * *

Much to Charlie’s dismay, a grand ball had been planned for that evening, so after a quick bath and a cup of tea, her maids had helped her into her gown, did her hair, and sent her on her way.

Standing alone, watching the gathering, her senses came alert and she knew that Bass was nearby

He strode into her line of sight, looking as handsome as ever beneath the warm glow of candlelight. 

Hair slicked back in an attempt to tame his curls, he was wearing black breeches, a silver waistcoat, and a black coat.

Reaching her, he bowed, a gleam in his blue gaze which made her flush. “Lady Charlotte,” he greeted formally. “May I have the honor of a dance?”

Though she had curtseyed in return, she suddenly felt awkward, hoping that he was not angry with her for the situation in which they found themselves.

“You are a wonderful dancer,” he complimented her with a rakish grin that took her by surprise.

“Are you not cross with me, Marquees Carisbrooke?”

“Being cross is a waste of time,” he replied, surprising her. “We make our choices and we must accept the repercussions.”

Charlie frowned. That was hardly reassuring.

“Why are you dancing with me, my lord?”

His lips twitched as he looked down at her. “Because I want to dance with you, Lady Charlotte. Need there be another reason?”

“Is it because of my brother? You need not feel obligated to betroth yourself to me, Sebastian. He cannot force us into marrying. We did nothing wrong.”

“Regardless of our familial connection, Charlotte, it was wrong of me to be so familiar with you.”

Charlotte looked away in shame, breaking their gaze as she watched the other dancers on the floor. “Nevertheless, I will not be your duty, Sebastian. I will face Miles’ wrath on my own.”

Bass chuckled softly near her ear. “Have you met Miles Matheson, Charlotte?”

Charlie stiffened in his arms. “I will not marry a man who is being forced into it.”

Pulling her a bit closer than propriety allowed, Miles be damned, Bass gazed down at her tenderly. “We can figure it all out later, Charlotte. For now, I simply want to dance with you.”

* * *

“Did Sebastian truly ruin you?” Cynthia asked.

“Why didn't you say something before the ball?” Mia chimed in.

“We didn’t even know you had arrived,” Angela complained.

“I don’t know why we’re surprised, Sebastian has always mooned after Charlotte,” Mia pronounced.

“My loves,” Nora said calmly, “allow Charlotte to breathe, please. I’m sure she’s weary after the upheaval of the day.”

Charlie smiled, reaching out to squeeze her hand. “Thank you, Nora.”

“You shall truly be our sister soon,” Cynthia said brightly, kissing Charlie’s cheek before disappearing out the door.

Charlie smiled at Angela and Mia before excusing herself to her chambers.

* * *

Bass flashed his friend a tight smile, taking the glass of port offered to him. Miles had summoned him to the library to discuss the particulars of his marriage contract to Charlotte.

“I still can’t believe my very own niece, Bass.”

Bass bowed his head slightly. “It was an unforgivable lapse of control, Miles. Charlotte is a beautiful girl and you know how much I care for her.”

“I do,” Miles said grimly. "Which is why you're getting married and not laying face down in the dirt.”

“You have my word I won’t bring any dishonor upon her. I’ve already written to Duncan and deposited a hefty separation payment into her accounts. She’ll move on and be no trouble.”

“You had better hope for your sake she isn’t,” Miles replied, pouring himself another glass of brandy. 

“As a part of the marriage settlement, you’ll promise to allow Charlie to attend her Grandfather within reason and safety. Nora and your maman have persuaded me to believe that a bit of leniency with Charlie will go a long way.”

“Nora and Maman?” Bass asked. “Did they know what Charlotte has been up to?”

“I’m not sure,” Miles replied. “They certainly weren’t surprised.”

A muscle in Bass’ jaw ticked as he slammed back his drink thinking of all the recent conversations with his maman in which she had encouraged him to settle down and start a family. “Of all the lying, manipulative…”

Miles looked taken aback. “You think they planned this?”

“Please,” Bass bit out as he began to mimic his maman. “Sebastian, you need to find a nice girl like Charlotte and settle down and give me grandchildren. I’m not getting any younger you know,” and that was just my mother. The girls have been giving me details about Charlotte almost down to her dress size over the last few months, making sure that I was at every ball, every dinner party…the conniving little minxes,” he muttered.

Miles bit back a smirk. “Well, it’s neither here nor there now. Ownership of five Matheson mills will be transferred to you with all the profits going into a separate account to be held for any daughters you might have. You will be given control over half of her inheritance now and the rest upon the birth of your first child.”

Bass waved him off. “You know I don’t need the money.”

“Then invest it for your children, Bass. Or Charlie. I just ask that you be kind to her and keep her safe. Perhaps one day you’ll be able to love her.”

“I already love her, Miles.”

“You know what I mean Bass.”

Yes, yes, he did.

* * *

Merrymaking was well underway at Roseland Hall, but Charlie had no desire to play games when her heart was so heavy. Slipping away from a game of Hoodman Blind which was in full force, she made her way to the library, where she had taken to hiding over the past week.

A fire crackled in the grate at the opposite end as she searched for something distracting to read. Since her arrival, she had been swept up in Nora’s impressive efforts entertaining her guests. Lavish dinners and endless games had kept her busy enough, but she had been given precious little time with Bass.

The banns had been read once, and yet she had not even had an opportunity to meet with him in private. Their exchanges had been few and polite all in the watchful presence of Miles or one of their sisters.

And as the days passed, bringing her ever nearer to their impending nuptials, Charlie's disquiet only increased as she was still not confident Bass truly wanted to marry her. She had no desire to simply be another one of his duties.

The prospect of marrying him filled her with anticipation. She had been longing for him for years, but she would not be fulfilled if he did not feel the same way she did.

She tried to put her worries aside and scanned the spines on the shelf.

“Charlotte.”

Startled at the sound of Bass' voice, Charlie spun around, pressing a hand to her heart.

“Bass, what are you doing in here? If Miles finds out we're alone…”

She was in no mood for yet another lecture from her brother on maintaining propriety.

Bass smirked. “He was the Hoodman when I left.”

The thought of her glaring, gloomy uncle playing a parlor game was enough to force a smile from her. The changes Nora had made to their lives would never cease to amaze her. “That still doesn’t answer my question. Why are you here?”

“I saw you slip away and thought I might find you,” he said, coming to a stop in front of her.

After what they had shared at the Inn, being alone with him seemed like a sin all on its own. Her heart began to pound and warmth slid between her thighs where his tongue had played over her flesh with such incredible dexterity, but she must not think of it. Not now. Not while they were alone.

She stared at the man who would become her husband in a fortnight, impressed once again with how regal and beautiful he was. “Why did you follow?”

“There is something I wanted to speak to you about,” he said, as the grin that had been playing about his mouth suddenly fled.

Charlie cringed preparing herself for a blow. This was it. He had finally come to his senses and wanted to end their betrothal. “Alright, then.”

He reached out a hand, palm up. “Perhaps we ought to sit first.”

The foolish part of her wanted to place her hand in his, to feel the strength of his touch. But the rest of her just wanted him to say whatever he planned to say. “Just tell me now, if you please.”

Opening his mouth, the words he had been about to say never came. Instead, he stepped towards her, cupping her face in his gloved hand before leaning in to kiss her.

Forgetting everything but him, Charlie twined her arms around his neck and clung to him as his mouth moved over hers. His familiar scent surrounded her as his body pressed against hers, his tongue in her mouth. 

By the time he drew back, her entire body tingled. Dizzy, she could do nothing but clutch him as her heart pounded loud enough to hear.

“Forgive me, Charlotte,” he whispered, his lips darkened from their kiss.

“It is not you who should be apologizing. I am the reason you find yourself suddenly having to marry me.”

“Charlotte, as much as Miles would like to think differently, he can’t force me to do anything. I want to marry you. I would think that kiss would be proof of just how much.”

“But is there someone you love? Someone else who could make you happy?”

“Charlotte,” Bass sighed, dropping a sweet kiss on the tip of her nose. “we are already family; this marriage will simply make it official. 

Maman adores you and is beside herself that you are to officially become her daughter.”

“That does not answer my question.”

“I adore you as well, Charlotte. I have since I first laid eyes on you. I assure you, that In time, that adoration shall grow to love.”

“But I won’t keep you from someone you desire.”

Bass couldn’t help but chuckle. “I desire you, Charlotte. Nothing will make me happier than being your husband.”

Charlie choked back a sob as he leaned down to kiss her once again.

When their lips parted once more, Charlie caught her breath, asking the other question that had been bothering her. “What of my grandfather, Bass? Will you forbid me?”

“Absolutely not, Charlotte. I have seen first hand what happens when you are forbidden to do anything. I will, however, insist you refrain from attending him anywhere you may be in danger. You must also promise me to always let me know when and where you should be. Servants will also accompany you to help keep you safe.”

Charlie looked up at him with a combination of wonder and gratitude, making Bass feel like a god.

“Thank you.”

Pulling her to him, Bass held her close.

* * *

Becoming Marchioness Carisbrooke was the culmination of three weeks of agonizing waiting, but it was worth it Charlie decided as she awaited Bass in her chamber.

The knowledge that he was now her husband and her stubborn overprotective uncle could no longer keep them apart was worth it.

Tonight was Christmas Eve and the hall was ablaze with merriment. She and Bass had married that morning, then presided over a lavish breakfast attended by all the guests. The afternoon had been spent decorating the hall with greenery and mistletoe while singing Christmas carols, a large log burning in the great hall. 

A subtle knock at the door heralded Bass’ arrival. Unable to contain her excitement, she padded to the door in her bare feet. Her lady's maid had already helped her into a nightdress and her dressing gown, her unbound hair falling down her back.

A tinge of nervousness swept over her as he stood before her at last. The door had barely closed and she was in his arms. She could not be certain who moved first, only that he held her in his arms, ravishing her lips. For the last fortnight, they had behaved scandalously behind Miles’ back, finding each other whenever they could, giving each other intimate pleasure.

But tonight was different.

This was the night she would truly become his.

His tongue was in her mouth, his hands in her hair. Catching her waist, he lifted her effortlessly, her legs wrapping around his hips. 

Kissing her until they reached her bed, he set her down. His kisses turned gentle and unhurried as his fingers plucked at the knot on her dressing gown, pushing it off her shoulders to reveal her nightgown. As their mouths met and clung, the kisses deepened, filled with unspoken need.

Boldness overcame her and she freed him from his dressing gown running her hands over his broad shoulders as it fell to the floor. With a groan, he tore his mouth away from hers.

“I promised myself I would go slowly tonight, Charlotte but if you keep touching me like that, I cannot promise anything,” he breathed against her lips.

Sliding her fingers up to his jaw, she met his eyes. “I don’t want slow.”

Damn.

All the blood rushed to Bass’ cock upon Charlie’s whispered confession. 

He was fairly sure he’d never been this hard in his entire life. 

Incapable of speech, he removed the final barriers keeping him from his wife. He had been given tantalizing glimpses over the past fortnight as they had conspired to elude Miles, but the sight of her completely bare in front of him had him wanting to paint her creamy breasts and thighs with his seed as he hauled his nightshirt over his head. 

“Sit,” he instructed her, his voice an aching, raspy mess. 

She did as he asked, her breath hitching as her gaze traveled over his body, her eyes widening as they reached his straining erection. He gave her a moment to inspect him, before dropping to his knees in front of her. 

Laying his hands on her knees, Bass spread her legs, caressing her inner thighs, as he watched her blossom for him, pretty and pink, already glistening for him. 

Dipping his head, he licked up her seam, once and then again, parting her folds. Finding her clit, he sucked until her hips were writhing against his mouth. Crying out his name, her fingers sank into his hair. 

Making his way back to her entrance, Bass lapped up the evidence of her desire before thrusting his tongue in and out of her channel, mimicking what his cock would soon be doing. 

Soon her hips were bucking and her legs spreading to give him better access. With just a few more licks and nips she was crying out, shaking against him. When her trembling finally eased, Bass pushed to his feet. 

“Lie on the bed,” he told her gruffly, his lust reducing him to the most basic speech. 

He let his eyes run over her as she lay back. Her nipples were hard, lips parted, her eyes hooded. She had the look of a well-loved woman. Joining her on the bed, Bass caressed her skin with his hand as he suckled one of her nipples. His fingers finally settled between her thighs, sliding through her folds with ease, causing her to jerk as he thumbed her clit. 

Releasing her nipple with a lusty pop, he moved to the other, making her cum with his fingers, just to watch her face as he did. 

“Are you ready?” he asked his lips against the pulse beneath her ear. 

Charlie nodded, clutching at his shoulders, unable to find her voice as tremors ran up and down her spine. 

“Are you sure,” he asked once again once he was settled between her thighs, rubbing the tip of his cock against her heat, “there will be pain the first time.”

“Yes, I’ve been told,” Charlie admitted thinking back to her no bones lecture from Bass’ maman and then Nora’s more romantic description. Charlie figured it would fall somewhere between the two.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Bass, please, I want you inside me.”

“Tell me to stop if it’s too much,” he murmured next to her ear as he guided himself inside her with one shallow thrust and then another. It was with the third thrust that she gasped at the shooting pain. 

“Charlotte?”

“Keep going.” 

He thrust again, fully seating himself deep inside of her, and stilled, letting her body adjust to his. 

Finding her lips, he kissed her, engaging her brain in something other than the pain, before reaching between them and stroking her nub.

Then they were moving together. 

It wasn’t long before Bass had her teetering on the edge once again, before pushing her off and following her over. 

Rolling off of her, Bass pulled her with him, flipping the downturned bedding over them. 

Charlie basked in the closeness, pleased that his first thought was of her comfort, as she settled her head on his chest, directly above his beating heart.

“Did I hurt you?” Bass asked, his body tense as he waited for her answer. 

“You could never hurt me, Bass,” she replied with a smile, letting her hand rest upon his stomach.

She felt his body ease as his hand tangled in her hair, tilting her head so that he could see her eyes. 

“Merry Christmas, Charlie. You are my most treasured gift.” 

“And you’ve made all my wishes come true,” Charlie whispered, tugging his head down to hers. 


End file.
